


My Heart is Like Paper, Yours is Like a Flame

by Existinghook



Category: 24 (TV)
Genre: F/M, very slight reference to self-harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-26
Updated: 2018-09-26
Packaged: 2019-07-17 22:11:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16104845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Existinghook/pseuds/Existinghook
Summary: She doesn’t remember the last time she washed her hair before today.





	My Heart is Like Paper, Yours is Like a Flame

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Title from "Such a Simple Thing" by Ray LaMonagne. Set during Season 8 after Renee gets dropped off at Jack's apartment.

******

She hasn’t shaved her legs in like six weeks, maybe longer. As she enters Jack’s apartment, this is the first absurd thought that crosses her mind.   
  
But she hasn’t. She doesn’t remember the last time she washed her hair before today, let alone felt the need to shave for...whatever.   
  
And in the ward they weren’t allowed - just, whatever. She needs some maintenance is what she’s thinking.   
  
(It’s not like she’s expecting - but _with me_ and _I meant it like it sounded_ and seven messages on her phone that she saved but hasn’t listened to.  And, like, it’s possible she’ll be glad she shaved later is the thing)  
  
She walks around his small space; boxes half packed. Picture frames haphazardly thrown in with coffee mugs - she thinks he’ll be sorry if the picture gets damaged, it’s a young girl smiling at the camera.  His granddaughter, probably.. She remembers he said something about _family_ and _LA_ and wonders what exactly _with me_ actually means.  Thinks, at least LA would be warmer; the air itself less oppressive. She wouldn’t have to fight just to breathe.   
  
She finds the bathroom down the little hallway. Evidence of his solitary life spread across the counter - one toothbrush hanging over the sink, one towel thrown over the bar, bottle of all-in-one body wash/shampoo that only guys can get away with resting on the tub’s edge, his razor and shaving cream tossed in the only drawer.   
  
She’ll smell like a guy - she’ll smell like him and that’s, she’s not going to think of what that might make her feel - but she has to shower. Needs to feel _clean_ for the first time in months.   
  
Later, she’s looking around for some food - a bell pepper and some milk in his fridge; just what exactly was he living off of.   She can’t really judge, Lucky Charms and PopTarts, she's basically a walking sugar cube - when her phone rings.   
  
Jack’s missing. And of course, of course, _of course_ he is. Most of their relationship has been _Bauer’s gone_ and _jack’s infected;_ _jack’s (insert precarious life situation here)_ , basically, so she really shouldn't be surprised.   
  
But she pulls her weapon out of her bag, checks the clip, and walks out the door to find his ass.

Because, dammit, for the first time in a long time she finally wants her life back.  And she’ll be damned if some asshole is going to get in the way of that.


End file.
